cartel
In the vast criminal underworld, cartels reign supreme; get the full scope of global drug trafficking networks from notorious kingpins down to lowly street pushers.
Chop Shop King
Dad was an artist about his work. He of course had to go spot his next job. I might make it seem easy, but believe me each job you would think was mission impossible. Dad would actually create tools to make the jobs possible. How did he get by with so many job's for so many years? He was the master at it all. Year's of practice, fine tuning his thoughts with each job. I remember one job he cut three air tanks into to shorten the air tanks from previous truck's. To make it easier to carry each one. Before long we had like ten homemade tank's around the property. He got the time down to give minutes or less. To be standing in front of a truck to driving it away. In this type of business time is the key to getting away clean. See none of us ever got caught while doing a job. Seriously three truck's a week for seven year's, five year's, even in Delaware.
Michael MullinsPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Binder
Listening to the water lap away at the edge of the lawn as the wind caresses my face. I can only smile. We did it. WE DID IT! We saved one more. This one was a little bit harder to handle for me. I knew Samantha’s grandmother personally. She was a friend, family. I had stood and looked her in the eye and promised to be there for her granddaughter. I will not stop now. Right now, I want to just sit here. Inhale the sweet scent of nature and good wine. Tomorrow will come soon enough, and I’ll fight more idiots then.
Tlynn NoahPublished 3 years ago in CriminalTeeth
It truly was the perfect score; all the way until it all went wrong. The money was exactly where we were told it would be. Sure, there were two guards, but we were told their locations, and it was a simple matter to hit ‘em with tasers, blindfold, and handcuff ‘em, they were no longer any danger to anyone. They never saw our faces, and in less than five minutes the entire score was done. Cardboard boxes, like from those moving places. Each box weighed about 40 pounds, Joey said they were about $400,000 per box, by weight. Can you imagine? So much money you need to weigh it instead of counting it. So, each box was 400k, and we just backed up the van to the door and loaded 100 boxes inside. Easy as you please. We was told they was thirty-two mil’ in the shack, I guess, maybe the boxes were part of the weight or somethin’. Each of us got 5 million, and the rest was to pay bob’s contact. That part went smooth as glass. We just drove over to the storage place, like we was moving house. Entered the combo like we was told, and counted out twenty-two boxes. We closed the door and headed back to my place. We each took fifteen boxes, and went our own separate way. Easy peasy, right? Not so much. What we didn’t understand, was each box had an RFID. I know, you all saw them tags in stores. Pretty useless right? If you can get around the posts by the door, no big deal, right? Wrong. I guess these was special tags, and they had some sort of hand scanner things they pointed out the windows of they cars. I was sleepin’ when they came for me. Heh heh, I had tossed a bunch of the cash in my bed and was rollin’ in it. You ever saw a hunnert thou in one spot? It’s a shitpot of dough let me tell you. I dumped one of them boxes out, it was thousands of twenty-dollar bills. Like half an inch deep in my bed. I might have had a little sumthin’ to help relax after the job was done, and I was passed out hard.
Brian AmonettePublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Kidnapping
The Kidnapping It was June of 2002 when she received the phone call. Her children were in school except for her oldest daughter who was with her in the house.
Maria SernaPublished 3 years ago in CriminalA New Beginning
I had accepted a new position in Colombia and today was my last day here. A change in scenery would be nice I thought as my life had become redundant. My family has never been supportive of what I do. Despite that I loved my job and there was nothing they could do about it. I didn’t know how long the job opportunity would last but although the thought of moving to Colombia was scary, I knew it was something that I could handle. The best person for the job was me and I intended to do it to the best of my ability.
Vendetta -(Get Rich Or Die Trying) Part 2
"Another thing I learned from my father was to never show emotion and to always have a backup plan for mistakes or problems you run in to". I just didn't know if I was able to fix this problem.
Essence VenturaPublished 3 years ago in CriminalVendetta - (Get Rich Or Die Trying)
"It's all love when it comes to family but when it come to the gang it's about taking care of what you own and who you own H-O-M-E. You might have your family but the game is your home and you take care of that". When I was younger my father would tell both me and my siblings that there would be no place like home except for being in the game.
Essence VenturaPublished 3 years ago in CriminalA Soul Lost in the Wilderness
He ran, he fell, he ran again. The bag hung low around his dark skinny legs, tangling him as he attempted to flee. The desert which burned his skin earlier, had turned cold and he shivered as he ran, wishing for the hot sun he cursed hours before.
SEAN WILDEPublished 3 years ago in CriminalTwo
Jose Cupertino sped down Highway 133 in an old busted up 1985 Toyota pickup truck. He had been driving for days, weeks, hours. Time didn't really register to him anymore. His main last memory among his numerous other thoughts was of a woman handing him a black notebook. He could remember the look in her eyes as she handed it to him. It was an expression of fear, tired, lamentable fear. He was the last person anyone would suspect and that probably had been the reason of why he was chosen. He was a postal office worker in the little town of Medillin. It was a town that had transformed from a peaceful village to one of civil unrest. Killings and gunshots were now a part of everyday life. In the black book was a short plea to hide the pages secrets and stuck into the bookend was a passport, his photo imprinted in the middle of it, perfectly as though it had always been there. He had never been to the U.S. He found it somewhat ironic that now he was being forced there that night. He had barely known the woman. She had been a regular customer of his, an international customer, and later there had been a light friendship, but nothing more and now he was headed up north to meet relatives of hers that she had never seen and he had never known apart from the envelops that he would deliver to her doorstep every couple of weeks. It seemed fitting for the times, yet surreal to reality at that moment. It was under the cover of darkness that he had left Medillin with its deep green hills and humid breeze. There was a guard post just outside of the village and he was stopped, but no one paid much attention to the run of the mill postal worker. Soon the green hills were at his back and night sky were in the windshield before him. Two hours later he had made it through customs at the Metropolitan Airport. The passport had checked through, a modest business man he appeared to be in the photo and then he was taxing on the runway with another 150 passengers headed for Houston, Texas. As the wheels left the tarmac two words popped into his brain and he wondered why they would be those two words, but also partly understood and then the plane banked upward into the black space of the Columbian night sky and disappeared into the low hanging clouds that only a jungle could command and contain.
Sound And The MessengerPublished 3 years ago in CriminalIs a snake's reality any truer than a bat's?
This wasn’t a normal Thursday. A grey and gloomy sheet was blanketing the hill, with etches of violet and blood orange slipping through the trees to the west. She was carefully making her way through the mud and the tangled roots of the heavy, old redwoods of the woodland. The rain that had fallen earlier smelled glorious. She reached the edge, and paused. Looked around with wide, nervous eyes. Moonlight mixed in, casting an eerie pale shadow on the vast compound. Silence..
The Third, But Not The Last
They came for him at midnight. He had shut himself inside a month ago, reading voraciously and only stopping once a day to eat and sleep. Earlier in the afternoon he had finally found the solution, and after checking his work to be sure, he had tattooed his left palm with the answer so many had sought before him. By the time he had finished, he was so exhausted he had collapsed into bed before he could test it.
Andrew RhodesPublished 3 years ago in CriminalThe Consequences of Curiosity
Another overdose. Was it the fourth or fifth this week? His crew was prompt, as expected. They cleaned up the mess and brought families back together. That was his division. His calling. His only opportunity.
Kendra PostPublished 3 years ago in Criminal